“I follow your advice,” she said.
“I believe that you are wiser than I. But,
oh, if he should take me at my word!”

“He will not take you at your word.”

“It is a terrible risk.”

“But such an end as this cannot be gained without
risks. Go, my child, and may heaven’s
blessing go with you!”

CHAPTER XIII.

THE KING HAS IDEAS.

The king had remained alone in his cabinet, wrapped
in somewhat gloomy thoughts, and pondering over the
means by which he might carry out his purpose and
yet smooth away the opposition which seemed to be so
strenuous and so universal. Suddenly there came
a gentle tap at the door, and there was the woman
who was in his thoughts, standing in the twilight
before him. He sprang to his feet and held out
his hands with a smile which would have reassured
her had she doubted his constancy.

“Francoise! You here! Then I have
at last a welcome visitor, and it is the first one
to-day.”

“Sire, I fear that you have been troubled.”

“I have indeed, Francoise.”

“But I have a remedy for it.”

“And what is that?”

“I shall leave the court, sire, and you shall
think no more of what has passed between us.
I have brought discord where I meant to bring peace.
Let me retire to St. Cyr, or to the Abbey of Fontevrault,
and you will no longer be called upon to make such
sacrifices for my sake.”

The king turned deathly pale, and clutched at her
shawl with a trembling hand, as though he feared that
she was about to put her resolution into effect that
very instant. For years his mind had accustomed
itself to lean upon hers. He had turned to her
whenever he needed support, and even when, as in the
last week, he had broken away from her for a time,
it was still all-important to him to know that she
was there, the faithful friend, ever forgiving, ever
soothing, waiting for him with her ready counsel and
sympathy. But that she should leave him now,
leave him altogether, such a thought had never occurred
to him, and it struck him with a chill of surprised
alarm.

“You cannot mean it, Francoise,” he cried,
in a trembling voice. “No, no, it is impossible
that you are in earnest.”

“It would break my heart to leave you, sire,
but it breaks it also to think that for my sake you
are estranged from your own family and ministers.”

“Tut! Am I not the king? Shall I
not take my own course without heed to them?
No, no, Francoise, you must not leave me! You
must stay with me and be my wife.” He
could hardly speak for agitation, and he still grasped
at her dress to detain her. She had been precious
to him before, but was far more so now that there
seemed to be a possibility of his losing her.
She felt the strength of her position, and used it
to the utmost.